


Impulsive Behaviour (Batman/Flash Novelette)

by TowerofBabel



Series: Tales of the Bat Family [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman - Fandom, Batman and Robin (Comics), The Flash (Comics), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-06-30 04:30:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15744342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TowerofBabel/pseuds/TowerofBabel
Summary: Bart Allen (Impulse) has come back in time with a warning for Dick Grayson. Thaddeus Thawne (President Thawne in the 30th Century, a long distant cousin of The Reverse Flash, arch enemy to Barry Allen 'The Flash') has cloned his dead brother Mitch Grayson with stolen DNA taken from the past with help of Impulse's genetically cloned evil twin Thad (Inertia). "Titan Fall" has been given immense powers. Both Thaddeus Thawne and Inertia have come back to the past to change future events, to alter the timeline, and only Impulse with help from the Bat Family can stop them. If they're not stopped, Time itself could cease to exist if "Titan Fall" is allowed to exist. (Sequel to my story Pride of a Superhero).





	1. The Pint-Sized Speedster

Tim Drake couldn’t believe the ridiculousness that some sites on the internet published. Even with a prominent site like G-TMZ; they had to go and make a fool of themselves, he thought. It was a popular site for celebrity gossip, news, music, and the latest in hype within Gotham City. But after the latest stunt they pulled, posting a poll on which Superhero had the best looking butt, he seriously questioned its vitality anymore.  
  
More than 350,000 people had voted. In the end, Nightwing won by a relatively healthy margin against Red Hood. Oddly enough, Red Robin — Tim Drake — ranked ninth. After he read that, he did a foolish thing, and he saw for himself what everything thought was ranked best at #9, and stood in front of a mirror to admire what people thought was so extolling. He was in great shape, more so than any seventeen year old. But he always wore a cape or wings, so how could anyone see his butt? Almost immediately, he stopped the childish idiocy and went back to work.  
  
He felt his eyes droop involuntarily for a moment as he sat at the Batcomputer. He had pulled an all-nighter again. Next to him in a trash bin were three empty cans of Red Bull energy drink. But he wondered if his body was getting used to it. When he pushed himself too hard, energy drinks seems to have the opposite effect, draining the little energy he had in his reservoir further. Nothing was a replacement for sleep.  
  
_Sleep_ , he thought. _I need sleep…_  
  
But he needed to finish the task he was doing, collecting groups of fragmented files from a hard drive that suddenly became corrupted. Overuse or an error within processing, either one could’ve caused the corruption. The files were too important, so it needed to be done.  
  
As he wrote some code and transferred more fragmented files, the screen momentarily became blurry as his eyes crossed from tiredness. He blinked several times to refocus, then rubbed them with two fingers.  
  
_I know, I know,_ he told himself. _But I can’t stop. And I’m out of energy drinks. Bruce is depending on me._  
  
As he continued to type, his eyes drooped once more, his mind fuzzy, and a hand slipped to an unwanted spot on the keyboard, unknowingly adding a few undefined characters to his programming data stream, and an error message popped up.  
  
“Damn!” he said angrily. “Focus Drake!” He slapped his cheeks to wake him up. He needed coffee, some sort of mind stimulating drug. _Yes, coffee — black coffee, that would wake me up_. But as he turned his chair, the world began to spin unnaturally. And he found himself without the strength to even stand up, he was totally exhausted. _Okay, you win._ Would it matter if he took a quick catnap?  
  
And whether if it was decided or not, Tim Drake’s exhaustion suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks, and the moment he closed his eyes, he fell into a deep unconscious sleep.  
  
x x x  
  
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Tim Drake as he slept, the Bat Cave was just about to receive an unusual visitor — followed by a red streak. It entered from one of the tunnels that lead to the maze of sleuth-ways that comprised the Bat Cave system, and zig-zagged from place to place, stopping and moving with the speed of flash lighting.  
  
It never stopped in one place for more than a nano-second. Its manner of speed was sped up by 1000 times, forcing others to see it as nothing but a red streak out of the corner of their eye, seconds after it had been there. But its concept of time was slowed down, however, as it raced through this unnatural speed force of time. The world seemed to slow down as it raced through the world. It was fast, but the world was slow.  
  
The Batmobile: “ _Impressive!_ ” Moved on.  
  
The Trophy Gallery: “ _Glorious!_ ” Moved on.  
  
Batcomputer: “ _Severely out-dated!_ ” Moved on. “ _Hello, Sleeping Beauty…_ ” Tim Drake was snoring.  
  
The visitor then entered the Armoury and looked at the vast assortment of weapons housed within it storage vaults, there were no locks; the Bat Cave was its own super lock. “ _Weapons are for non meta-humans_ ,” it said. Moved on.  
  
Then the visitor went to an adjacent room — where they stored all the uniforms, or the changing chambers.  
  
Admiration struck the visitor when it gazed upon each suit and uniform proudly displayed behind a series of oblong chambers of glass. These were obviously the less used suits, or uniforms that were no longer used, or had its purpose for a single purpose solely, and they were put out for display to be admired and remembered. The visitor could understand that. History was always something to remembered, never to be forgotten.  
  
History was very important. Without it, mistakes of the past and will be repeated. And yet with each generation, they always were repeated. It never failed.  
  
The visitor zipped from chamber to chamber, stopped, viewing each Batman and Robin suit displayed: “ _Too bulky…Nah, not my style…Too flashy…_ ” He laughed to himself at that remark.  
  
Then he came to the Nightwing costumes, and stopped for more than a nano-second to look at a stylistic black and blue armour version. The visitor didn’t know for what purpose it was originally created for and for what bad guy it was used against, but it was all too familiar to his gaze, nonetheless. “I know _you_ …” it said. “They’ll find you missing soon if history repeats itself, and history always does.”  
  
Suddenly, he heard an alarm. “ _Oops, it found me…must’ve triggered the alarm. I stayed in one place too long._ ”  
  
And the visitor zipped out of the room and into the main cave.  
  
x x x  
  
At first the Bat Cave’s alarm sounded like a dull muffling as if Drake had cotton shoved into his ears, but after a few moments it progressively became more acute as his senses awakened by its alerts.  
  
A computerized voiced warning sounded:  
  
I _NTRUDER ALERT!_  
_INTRUDER ALERT!_  
_INTRUDER DETECTED!_  
_INITIATING SECURITY PROTOCOLS!_  
  
The screen in front of him flashed with a warning. This woke him up fully and his fingers raced over the computer keyboard in front of him. “Identify intruder, computer,” he ordered out loud. But the computer could not.  
  
Drake immediately shut off the more extreme components of his new security system, one of them was the particle stun beams. If it hit the intruder it would immediately render him unconscious. It was part of Drake’s security protocols, ever since Cat Woman had broken into the Bat Cave unabated. Drake didn’t want the computer to accidentally hit him as it tried to follow this mysterious foe, so he turned it off.  
  
He brought up a real-time map and he was dumbfounded when the security system kept pinging different locations of the intruder, seconds after it had been at a certain spot, as if the computer itself was confused by its location. Whatever it was, it didn’t stay in one place for long.  
  
Was it something he hadn’t found? Something the computer didn't recognize?  
  
Over the course of several weeks in the caves, he spent cataloging every species he would possibly find — animal and insect — so his new early warning dedication system wouldn’t trigger itself with every provocation after several false alarms. Did he miss one?  
  
Drake swung around in his chair as a fast breeze whisked past his head, his hair blowing. Then he saw it, a red streak out of the corner of his eye, faster than the average eye could see, darting from place to place.  
  
“Kid Flash? Wally? Is that you?” Drake asked.  
  
Wally West (Kid Flash) wasn’t wearing yellow these days, instead he wore an alternative red costume, and a flashier version of his old one. Superheroes often changed their look from time to time. Had Wally come for a visit? Maybe the computer didn’t recognize him because Drake had programmed in Wally’s perimeters and had scanned a picture with his yellow costume instead? Or, was Wally just moving too fast and the computer couldn’t identify him? Okay, a small glitch, Drake thought. He would need to install better stop motion perimeters.  
  
The red streak suddenly stopped. But instead of Kid Flash, it was a pint-sized speedster. He was the same height as Damian, approximately, and maybe the same age. If Drake had to estimate, Tim would say the speedster was just under five feet tall, say: four feet, six inches. He wore a skin tight red and white striped bodysuit, fingerless gloves, and over his eyes was a lightly tinted yellow visor probably to keep the “speed winds” out of his eyes. Finishing off the ensemble were golden metal wings that attached to the side of his head piece and a coif of thick brown hair blossomed from the top of his head. The kid was muscular for his age as if he were a professional gymnast.  
  
Drake knew exactly who this speedster was, but he was shocked to see him here, and in this time era.  
  
He silenced the alarms, returning the computer back to normal status. This was no enemy. He was an ally.

 

To Be Continued...


	2. Impluse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart Allen (Impulse) has come back in time with a warning for Dick Grayson. Thaddeus Thawne (President Thawne in the 30th Century, a long distant cousin of The Reverse Flash, arch enemy to Barry Allen 'The Flash') has cloned his dead brother Mitch Grayson with stolen DNA taken from the past with help of Impulse's genetically cloned evil twin Thad (Inertia). "Titan Fall" has been given immense powers. Both Thaddeus Thawne and Inertia have come back to the past to change future events, to alter the timeline, and only Impulse with help from the Bat Family can stop them. If they're not stopped, Time itself could cease to exist if "Titan Fall" is allowed to exist. (Sequel to my story Pride of a Superhero).

“Impulse?”  
  
The thirteen year old saluted. “Hi, Red Robin, or should I call you Tim Drake? Nice place here. I’ve always wanted to visit, but it’s so run down where I come from. Nice to see it in its prime. Glad I could make the time. Ha! Time! Get it?”  
  
Drake got the time reference joke. Impulse was from the far distance future, from the thirtieth century. From what Drake could recall, Impulse had an interesting but complex linage. Impulse was the offspring of both an Allen and a Thawne. In the twenty-first century, the here and now, and through the distance future, from what Flash learned in his dealing with Zoom (the Reverse Flash), the speedster lines were sworn enemies. How two rivals got together in the vast future to have a child was beyond him. Maybe later he would ask for a breakdown of Impulse’s family tree, but not now.  
  
Drake looked at a clock on a near-by wall, then rubbed his eyes with a hand. With the initial shock over, his tiredness began to overwhelm him again, and he yawned. “While it’s nice to see you, what are doing here?”  
  
“I had planned to come a little later. Yup, mistakes do happen. But I miscalculated slightly in the Speed Force.” He shrugged. “Funny thing, time travel. So many different twists and turns and alternative time jumps. Had to get it right. But I missed the timing just a pinch and arrived earlier than anticipated. Sorry to wake you.”  
  
Drake yawned again. “No worries. You actually did me a favour. I shouldn’t be sleeping anyhow, I have too much to do.” He swivelled in his chair back to the console and went back to work, typing code, and collecting data.  
  
Impulse’s presence was instantaneous and Drake felt the whisk of a breeze through his hair as the speedster came to stand immediately next to him. He wasn’t startled.   
  
“Whatcha doin’?” Impulse asked, looking at the screen, lifting up his visor. “Data input? Boring to the max!”  
  
Drake typed as he spoke. “A hard drive crashed. I’m collecting fragmented memory to restore back to its original state.” Impulse was smart, so he knew exactly what the process entailed, so it didn’t need to be explained further.  
  
“Ok — still boring,” Impulse said with a childish grin. “Got any classic games on this thing? And I mean, really retro?”  
  
Drake gave him a solid no. The Batcomputer was a serious piece of hardware, not for games. Even though it had one of the most powerful processors in the world, it wasn’t for online gaming. Or, at least, that’s what he told everyone else. Every once in a while, when he was alone, he would sneak an hour or two of on-line, virtual reality community gaming in. He didn’t like violent games, so he went directly for the 4K CGI SIM concepts.  
  
Impulse crossed his arms. “You’re no fun, Grandpa Barry was right. You need to remove that stick and chill.”  
  
Drake’s mouth went agape. He had been accused of being too serious sometimes, mostly by either Kon-el or Jason, but to hear that from Barry Allen (the Flash)? Or was the kid just saying that because he said no to him? Since the kid was from ten centuries into the future, maybe it was another Barry Allen?  
  
Drake suddenly felt annoyed. He preferred to be left alone to do his work. “Listen, Bart…” Bartholomew Allen the Second was Impulse’s real name, “I have work to do.” Then he stopped, recalled something almost as an afterthought. “But there is something you could you do me.”  
  
“Sure, name it.”  
  
Drake told him the location of a corner store than was still open this late at night, it was 4am. He needed a fresh supply of Red Bull energy drinks. Bart gave him a concerned look and informed him too much of that stuff wasn’t good for the heart, it elevated blood pressure to unnatural levels for prolonged periods of time — much like hyperbolic steroids. Such energy drinks were banned in the future because too many people were overdosing. Drake understood the risks. He didn’t have “natural speed” like Bart, so he opted for the next best thing to help him stay awake.  
  
“Got money? I know this culture still uses paper currency.”  
  
“Cash? Who really uses cash anymore?” Drake reached into his wallet and pulled out a swipe card with the Batman emblem on it. It was used by the Bat Family in lieu of cash for emergencies. It was linked to a special, encrypted account, known only to a select few.  
  
Bart’s eyes lit up as he held it up in both hands in admiration. “Ooo…Do you get frequent Bat Miles when you use it?” Drake gave the speedster a look of disbelief for that joke. Bart pursed his lips. “Tough crowd, no jokers around here, I see,” he said. “ _Ha!_ Get it?”   
  
Drake, straight-faced, asked him to hurry.  
  
“Ok, that was funny,” Impulse said. “Like my grandpa always says: I’ll be back in a… _me._ ”   
  
And Bart raced off, exiting from whist he came.   
  
Drake let out a heavy breath, then poised his hands over the keyboard once more. Finally he could get back to work without being interrupted. But he only got a few lines of code out before the small speedster returned with two plastic bags. The bags looked heavy for the kid, but Impulse was super strong. And for a moment, Drake wondered if Impulse and Jon Kent (Superman’s son) every fought, who would come out the victor?  
  
Drake was stunned. “Did you buy out the entire store?” There were six cases of Red Bulls, each case had six cans.  
  
“Yup, all they had,” Bart replied. “It came to just under Seventy Bat Dollars. I got a weird look from the clerk. He asked if my parents knew I was out this late. I told him I was a space alien and needed the drinks to fuel my spaceship and I found this Bat Card on the side of the road — and when the card worked, he was okay with it. Oddly enough, in this time era, he didn’t look the least bit shocked in that even though I meant it as a joke.”  
  
“Yeah, I know. People are so desensitized to these kinds of things these days that its almost second nature to expect them, just like violence on TV. Thanks for going to the store for me.” Drake ripped open a box and took out a can, opened it, and gulped it down. Bart cocked his head and told him to take it easy. Drake said he was fine. Then he asked the speedster, “By the way, what’s the purpose of your visit, Bart?”  
  
“I wanted to speak with Nightwing. I mean, Dick Grayson. Is he here? Sleeping? I never checked the House.” Drake corrected him. It was called Wayne Manor, it wasn’t a House.  
  
“He’s sleeping in his room. He’s staying here while the building where his apartment is in being fumigated.”  
  
“That’s nasty,” he said, sticking out his tongue. “I don’t like bugs. Got a little ‘insect’ back home that ticks me off from time to time called Inertia. He’s my cloned brother, Thad.”  
  
“Not the same thing, but I get the analogy. Damian can be a real pest sometimes, too.”  
  
“Why doesn’t Grayson live at the _Manor?_ ”  
  
“He’s been thinking about moving back in. It would be easier for everyone, but he hasn’t decided yet. He likes his freedom, though, to come and go as he pleases without Mother Hen hoarding over him.”  
  
“You have a chicken running around the Manor? That’s pretty cool! Do you find eggs everywhere?”  
  
Drake rolled his eyes. “Mother Hen: As in Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne butler,” Drake explained. “Or that’s what we off-handedly call him. He looks after all of us like a parent.”  
  
“Oh, like a real mother, I get it. My parents were killed by President Thawne in my time era, so was my entire family.”  
  
Drake didn’t know what to say to that other than, “I’m sorry.”  
  
Bart seemed to brush it off, as if it were ancient history.  
  
“What do you need to talk to Dick about?” Drake asked. “Is it important enough to wake him up right now? He’s been pretty busy with a lot of stuff lately and he hasn’t had time to rest. This is the first time he’s been able to sleep undisturbed. And with some of the nightmares he’s been having, any sleep is good sleep for him.”  
  
Dick Grayson suffered from reoccurring nightmares, in his dreams he relived some of the horrors he’d experienced in crime frighting over the years. It was a form of PTSD. It could only be managed, not cured.  
  
“Semi-important,” Bart said. “But it can wait. It involves something that happens in my time.”  
  
“Ten centuries from now?” Drake finished the whole Red Bull, fully awake now. Then he asked, “What’s the problem? Maybe I can help? I’m told I’m a smart guy.” He smiled loftily.  
  
“Nah, you can’t help with this. It involves Grayson directly. But before I say anything else, I need to confirm something with him before I divulge anything more about future events. You know the deal, right?”  
  
“Yeah, I understand.”

 

To Be Continued...


	3. Clone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart Allen (Impulse) has come back in time with a warning for Dick Grayson. Thaddeus Thawne (President Thawne in the 30th Century, a long distant cousin of The Reverse Flash, arch enemy to Barry Allen 'The Flash') has cloned his dead brother Mitch Grayson with stolen DNA taken from the past with help of Impulse's genetically cloned evil twin Thad (Inertia). "Titan Fall" has been given immense powers. Both Thaddeus Thawne and Inertia have come back to the past to change future events, to alter the timeline, and only Impulse with help from the Bat Family can stop them. If they're not stopped, Time itself could cease to exist if "Titan Fall" is allowed to exist. (Sequel to my story Pride of a Superhero).

Hours later, when the others awoke, Dick and Damian made their way down to the Bat Cave, and the first thing Dick noticed was Tim fast asleep at one of the Batcomputer consoles as usual. Neither one noticed the visitor laying hidden on the couch in the lounging area on the other side of the cave.  
  
Dick went over to Tim and smiled. Tim’s head was slumped to the side in the chair, his hair aloof, hanging over half his face. _He needs a haircut_ , Dick thought. Tim’s arms were curled up into his chest, one hand under his chin. “Isn’t he adorable when sleeps? I’ve often found him like this. He’s like a little cat.”  
  
“Cats are better company,” Damian said. “Can I give him a smack to wake him up? _Please,_ Grayson!”  
  
Dick gave Damian a narrowed gaze. “No,” he said affirmatively.  
  
“I wouldn’t startle him, he’s totally exhausted,” came a hidden voice.  
  
Both Dick and Damian whipped their heads to the lounging area as Bart Allen popped his head up. The couch had been turned around, so the back faced the rest of the cave for concealment. He didn’t wear his visor or head piece, but he was wearing his patented red and white, skin tight body suit that he was known to wear. His identity was completely exposed. But that didn’t matter, the Bat Family knew who he was, and where he came from.   
  
In Bart’s hands was a portable handheld gaming system, what was told to him was a Sony Playstation Vita. Tim had given it to him to play with while he waited for everyone to wake-up. In the mean time, Tim had fallen asleep again.   
  
Bart’s eyes were wide with excitement. “These games are so-so retro, but oh so much fun! Everything’s virtual reality, 4D in my time, and then some, so finding one of these rocks! It gives my thumbs a real work out.”  
  
“Bart Allen?” Dick voiced. “Impulse?”  
  
Damian pointed at the Vita. “That belongs to Jon Kent!” he said accusatory, as if Impulse had stolen it. “He wondered where he’d left it the last time he was here; it must’ve fallen behind in the cushions in that couch. Drake found it and didn’t tell anyone?” He looked to Grayson. “By the way, who is this jerk?”  
  
Bart frowned. “Jerk?”  
  
“Hey Damian, that was rude!” Dick said. “But, that’s right, you two haven’t met yet.” Dick made introductions, and then forced Damian to apologize for his remark. Then: “So, Bart, what are you doing here, and in this time era?”  
  
Damian gave his patent, suspicious gaze, as Bart jumped up from the couch to the floor, smiling. Frustrated that yet another “intruder” had penetrated the Bat Cave under Drake’s watch — like Cat Woman had weeks prior — he turned to Drake and gave him a hard slap across the side of the head, waking him with up with a start.   
  
Drake reacted, and fell out of the chair to the floor. Instinctively he rolled into a defensive position, thinking he had just been attacked. He felt his face, saw Damian smiling. “Ow, you jerk! Why?” Drake growled angrily under his breath.  
  
“That was unnecessary,” Dick chided Damian.  
  
“Nope,” Damian said proudly. “It was necessary. It was his eight-o’clock wake-up call. Rise and shine.”  
  
“You’re a nasty little SOB, you know that, right?” Drake said with a sneer, getting to his feet.  
  
Bart began to laugh heartedly. “Oh, too funny! This is like a comedic routine. I’ve seen old movies from the Twentieth  Century — three comedians always slapped each other for laughs and chuckles. I think they were called the _Three Stooges_.” Then he pointed at each one of them. “One…Two…Three…”  
  
Damian frowned, cupping his hips. “I am not a Stooge!” he said strongly. Then he looked to Dick. “What’s a _Stooge_?”  
  
“I’ll tell you later,” Dick said. “Regardless, what you did was not comedic in any sense of the word.” He demanded Damian apologize to Tim. Damian crossed his arms, but then saw the serious look on Grayson’s face, and relented.   
  
— _Tt_ — “Sorry, Drake,” he said from the side of his mouth.   
  
Dick turned back to Bart satisfied the issue was over between those two.  
  
“Richard Grayson,” Bart began, almost on a serious tone, “you and I need to have a talk. It’s somewhat important. Can I talk in front of them?”  
  
“What you have to say, Bart, you can say in front of us all. We have no secrets.”  
  
“Good,” Bart said, but looked around first. “Where is Batman, I mean, Bruce Wayne?”  
  
“Early morning Board Meeting at Wayne Enterprises,” Dick told him.  
  
“Oh…” Bart shrugged. “It’s okay, it doesn’t matter him. As long as you’re here. The information I’m brought back from the future involves you anyhow.” Impulse sighed. “Titan Fall isn’t really a threat right now, but if he’s not stopped here and now, he may threaten my time, your time, and may alter the complete timeline from here to centuries to come.”  
  
Dick gave him a quizzical look. “Who is 'Titan Fall'?”  
  
Bart took a breath. “Now, I know your history — I know all about the Flying Grayson’s — so when I reveal this, don’t trip out, okay? President Thawne from my time — ten centuries from now — often goes off on whims sometimes, and gets my cloned brother, Inertia (a clone of himself, with my DNA), to commit horrible acts of evil, for which I have to clean up.” He paused for a moment. “On second thought, you better sit down for this. It’s quite shocking!”  
  
Dick situated himself to the spot, crossed his arms, as if to brace himself for some bad news. “Tell me, Bart,” he said.  
  
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you…” Bart saw all three of the Bat Family in attendance standing firm. He continued, “President Thawne had Inertia go back in time and swipe a sample of your brother’s DNA, Mitch Grayson, and has made a clone of him—giving him immense strength and power.  But, thankfully, no Speedster powers…”

 

To Be Continued...


	4. The Team Assembled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart Allen (Impulse) has come back in time with a warning for Dick Grayson. Thaddeus Thawne (President Thawne in the 30th Century, a long distant cousin of The Reverse Flash, arch enemy to Barry Allen 'The Flash') has cloned his dead brother Mitch Grayson with stolen DNA taken from the past with help of Impulse's genetically cloned evil twin Thad (Inertia). "Titan Fall" has been given immense powers. Both Thaddeus Thawne and Inertia have come back to the past to change future events, to alter the timeline, and only Impulse with help from the Bat Family can stop them. If they're not stopped, Time itself could cease to exist if "Titan Fall" is allowed to exist. (Sequel to my story Pride of a Superhero).

“He’s done horrible things, and he’s proud of all the carnage he’s created,” Bart continued. “He’s ruthless and morality corrupt — _damaged-washed_ , if that’s the correct term? I came back in time to ask for your help in stopping your brother before Time itself is altered in the future. Thawne as plans to use him, somehow, to alter the timeline, so he can get even more power in _my_ time. It must not happen. He, Thawne, and Inertia _must_ be stopped!”  
  
Dick Grayson stood shocked, and he looked as if his knees were buckling from beneath him. Damian watched him and immediately brought him a chair to his side, but Grayson didn’t take it. In fact, he righty rejected it.   
  
Damian was aware of Grayson’s family — also known as The Flying Grayson’s; an acrobatic group — dying at the hands of a mobster named Tony Zucco many years back. It was long before his time, and because he wasn’t there, he didn’t feel the attachment. The shock didn’t hit him. However, Tim Drake, on the other hand, was just as shocked to hear the shocking revelation.  
  
Grayson was strong, but Damian thought he looked like was about to fall down.  
  
“No!…No!…It can’t be!” Dick said, shaking his head slowly, his hands dropping to his sides. “My brother and the rest of my family are dead. They were murdered. That bastard! Why would he do something like that?”  
  
“I know it’s a shocker,” Bart said.  
  
“That’s the understatement of all time!” Damian said.  
  
Grayson gave him a hard stare as if to “shut-up”. Damian cast his gaze away.  
  
“Like I said, he gave your brother immense strength and abilities, but no speedster powers. When I first learned of it, I questioned why—and when I confronted Inertia about it, Thad, just smirked, and said, ‘Why not?’. Thad and President Thawne are both psychopaths. They think differently than the rest of us.”  
  
“Why Titan Fall? What’s with the strange name?” Drake asked. It seemed Dick wondered the same thing because he didn’t chide him with a look like he did Damian. Grayson seemed to stand more sturdy now.   
  
“The _Titans_ in my time — those who took the name from this time; to honour their legacy, and in an aid to fight against Thawne’s tyrannical rule — were wiped out by Mitch Grayson in his first throng of attacks when he was unleashed. However, the Titans didn’t have powers. They were merely a band of freedom fighters who called themselves that. Hence, Thawne christened Mitch Grayson ‘Titan Fall’.”  
  
“That’s just sick,” Damian put in. Grayson nodded. He wasn’t saying much. Damian figured he was still in shock. But why clone Grayson’s dead brother? Damian thought. What’s the purpose? Thawne could’ve cloned anyone else with powers in fact to become his enforcer. “If Ra’s al Ghul taught me anything, it’s that to discrete t _he honoured dead_ is beyond forgivable!”  
  
Grayson gave him a thin, soft smile, and an appreciative nod.  Damian thought highly of Grayson, so calling his family ‘the honoured dead’ was a great honour unto itself.  
  
Dick Grayson gave a serious look back at Bart. The boy gulped. Dick asked: “Where?…Where can I find them?”  
  
Bart hesitated for a moment. All kids had an instinctively fear of an adult looking at them with a serious stare as if they had immediately done something wrong. Then: “He’s here—with Thawne and Inertia—in this time. They’ve been observing you for quite some time. I know where their hideout is. But it might be difficult to get to. The space they inhabit at the moment is between dimensions, encapsulated within a bubble of stagnate time.”  
  
“Take me to them,” Dick insisted. “Now!”  
  
“Us,” Drake stepped forward. “Take us, to them.” Damian nodded. For once he and Tim were in agreement. “We’re not going to let Dick take them on alone. We’re partners. Together we fight, together we fall. But we won’t fall.”  
  
Bart looked at the trio. They stood firm as a team. “Are you sure? As a trio, they’re formidable. And with Inertia there, they’ll have control of forces that even I have difficult with.”  
  
“Take us to them, Bart,” Dick said, sounding proud that his family was ready to join him at this critical time. “Tim, Damian — suit up. I want see this Titan Fall for myself. We’re taking the Bat Plane.”  
  
x x x  
  
The Bat Plane’s engines engaged on the upper landing platform. Nightwing activated the boosters to rise the vehicle to a hover, then turned it clockwise, and set a course through the tunnels specifically carved out and designed to  allow it to fly through and out into an open, but secluded area of the woods, on Wayne property.   
  
As Nightwing piloted the Bat Plane through the sky, Tim sitting shotgun, and Damian with Impulse sat in the rear, his mind raced with what he would find when he met Mitch for the first time since his death. His brother was dead, this fraud, this clone, was not his brother — but what characteristics would he share with Mitch?  
  
He was angry. But beyond all else, he was dumbfounded by these unusual events. Why Mitch? Why his brother?  
  
“Tim, call Wally,” Dick said. “Have him meet us at the coordinates Impulse gave us. We’ll need all help we can get.”  
  
Tim nodded. With his laptop in hand, he made the call through its phone network. But he was only able to get a voice message. “You’ve reached me—yes me—the great and powerful me. I’m either on a date or out with friends. I’ll get your message, eventually. And if this is Carol…I’ll make it up to you, somehow.” Then followed a prolonged beep.  
  
Tim gave him a short message, then ended the call.  
  
“He’s kind of arrogant,” Impulse remarked. “But most speedsters are.”  
  
“I would say that’s an accurate description of Wally,” Dick admitted. “He follows Barry Allen’s example. He’s proud of what he does, and he’s not afraid to let everyone know it. As you should be, Bart. We have our issues here, but I can’t imagine what you have to deal with in the future with all that advance tech. I bet Tim’s jealous?”  
  
Tim smiled, nodded.  
  
Damian observed Grayson. This was a classic distraction technique to hide whatever pain or anger he was feeling. It was similar and not unlike the time Grayson took he and Tim to the carnival to put aside the stress of crime fighting. They encountered Scarecrow there using a new drug that manipulated people into utter submission to do whatever the villain wanted. They stopped Crane’s plans and sent him back to Arkham, but Damian knew the signs of mental stress. And Grayson after hearing about his lost dead brother Mitch was suffering from them and possibly PTSD.  
  
Impulse smiled. “Thanks. I do what I can with what I have. But Inertia is a pain. He can open up vortexes within the Speed Force to go anywhere he pleases, and his speed is remarkable, I have to admit.”  
  
“Then we’ll just have to stop him and the other two stooges,” Damian said.  
  
Grayson laughed. “Thanks D, I needed that,” he said.  
  
Damian smiled thin. “Glad I could help.”  
  
When the Bat Plane reached the coordinates, it looked like an ordinary office building about forty stories high with a glass exterior window framing. There was an empty lot next to it, which was a suitable place to land. The lot had a sign that said, ‘ _Coming Soon: Insurance Corp. Another project proudly being built by Wayne Enterprises._ ’  
  
The plane set down and the landing platform began to descend. Impulse was first out, and he took a quick look around the block before the others even reached the ground off the platform.  
  
“No guards,” Impulse said. “But I can feel we’re being watched.”  
  
Suddenly Kid Flash raced down the side of a near-by building and skidded to a halt next to the team assembled. Wally smiled at Dick. “Got your message, sorry I’m late. I had a slight emergency. But she wasn't worth it.” Wally then appeared confused to see the future speedster in this time. “Impulse?” He gazed up high to the top of the office building. “So, it’s all happening in here? Something or other? Care to bring me to speed, so to speak?”  
  
Dick directed Wally to the pint-sized speedster and he let Impulse do the talking. The entire “lengthy” conversion took less than ten-seconds, Impulse reciting everything in super speed, and Wally didn’t miss a beat. When it happened, Tim thought a bug was near him and waved his hand across his face to swat the insect. The pitch of the speedsters’ conversion was so high, it sounded like a high buzzing sound.  
  
“Ah, okay, got it,” Wally said.  
  
Damian put a finger in his ear as if to clear it. “I’m glad someone did. Do you speedsters always talk like that?”  
  
“It saves time,” Impulse replied. “Like qualifying large streams of data into a single atomic storage device.”  
  
“Did you get that Tim?” Dick asked with humour.  
  
This time an insect did buzz around his face and Tim waved his hand to swat it away. “Yup,” he said.  
  
Wally put a finger up. “Okay, one question: How do we fix this?” he asked.  
  
Impulse mused for a moment. “I’ve tried going back into the past and stopping Inertia, but he keeps opening different time vortexes for entry points, so eventually I stopped trying. I once went further back in time and tried to prevent a time vortex from opening where I knew one would emerge, but Inertia just altered his entry point to somewhere else, probably telling that self that I would be there. Thad is good, I have to admit it that.”  
  
“I learned a long time ago not to concern myself with all the alternative realities out there,” Nightwing said. “With every choice made, there is an alternative decision, and a new reality is created—infinite realms, infinite possibilities.”  
  
“That’s right, and alternative dimensions,” Impulse said, and looked back at the building. “What we see here…is just that—one reality encapsulating a hidden reality, and Inertia is controlling it.”  
  
Wally slammed a fist into a hand excited. “Okay, this isn’t difficult—two speedsters against one. We storm the Bastille, demand to know why the devil’s here, and stop his devious plans.”  
  
“And stop Grayson’s fake cloned brother,” Damian added.  
  
“Right! We and Impulse can get you in,” Wally said.  
  
Impulse shook his head. “Slight problem,” he said. He looked around for a small stone, picked one off the ground near his feet, and then rubbed it in between his hands with super speed, energizing it with a form of particlization. Then he tossed it at the side of the building with a pitcher’s throw. When it hit, the exterior of the building reverberated with a blue wavy light. “They’ve erected a field force to protect the Slip Dimension inside.”  
  
“What’s a Slip Dimension?” Damian asked.  
  
Impulse answered. “It’s a pocket dimension that slips within an alternative dimension, encapsulating it’s inhabited dimension with stratosphere-like borders, or field forces, that are virtually impregnable to get through. I’ve only done it once. But that was with another speedster in my time. Kid Flash and I would have to harmonize our vibrating abilities and create a helix of energy to open up a crack within the casing to squeeze through. This must be Inertia’s doing.”  
  
Nightwing crossed his arms. “So, what are waiting around here for? Wally; Bart…” He gave both speedsters a stare as if the next thing was an order: “Get us in there!”  
  
Before the pair could even get started, suddenly Nightwing vanished in an instant as if he was removed from time and space. And a moment after that, the barrier around the building seemed to flash with an unnatural light that repelled everyone back — generated by the Speed Force — temporarily blinding them.  
  
When their vision cleared, there stood Inertia like a god who had just come from Olympus to lay down punishment to his pions. He stood with his dark green and black body suit and winged visor, blonde hair bustling from his sculpt. His arms were in front him in what appeared to be like claw-like gestures, as if cupping invisible pockets of energy.  
  
He was evil incarnate. Thad was a cloned and a demented sinister version of Impulse, implanted with Thawne’s own DNA and trained to kill, created by President Thaddeus Thawne in the thirtieth century as a rival to Impulse. He was basically Thawne’s son, hence his name was Thaddeus (Thad) Thawne, the Second.  
  
“Hello, brother…” Thad said to Impulse, and then he laughed with a sinister tone. He had bright white teeth that glistened in the sun. Thad was a little taller than Impulse and roughly the same age. But unlike Impulse’s previous issue with hyper-exceleration that made his cells advance at an extraordinary rate; now corrected; Thad was cloned without that problem, and with tremendous powers in the Speed Force. “There’s no way you’re getting past me. Try as you might, Time itself is our hostage! And this time, there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop _us!_ ”

 

To Be Continued...


	5. The Great Escapist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart Allen (Impulse) has come back in time with a warning for Dick Grayson. Thaddeus Thawne (President Thawne in the 30th Century, a long distant cousin of The Reverse Flash, arch enemy to Barry Allen 'The Flash') has cloned his dead brother Mitch Grayson with stolen DNA taken from the past with help of Impulse's genetically cloned evil twin Thad (Inertia). "Titan Fall" has been given immense powers. Both Thaddeus Thawne and Inertia have come back to the past to change future events, to alter the timeline, and only Impulse with help from the Bat Family can stop them. If they're not stopped, Time itself could cease to exist if "Titan Fall" is allowed to exist. (Sequel to my story Pride of a Superhero).

One moment Nightwing had been standing outside in the empty lot next to the building with the others, the next, he felt the sensation of falling into darkness, dropping into an abyss of nothingness.  
  
And then it hit him like a thousand needles stabbing his skin despite the protection of his suit. His face exposed, this is where he felt the icy sheer chill of water penetrate his body. He plunged into some sort of watery cell. He blinked his eyes open, light stabbed his pupils; the water was like looking through a film of wax paper.  
  
The moment he had dropped into the water, after the initial splash, he heard the top of the cell slam shut, encasing him in, like some sort of a trick from the great magician and escapist Harry Houdini. It also had another name: The Chinese Water Torture Cell. His arms were bound behind him in metal clamps, he had felt them restrained almost immediately when he began to fall in the darkness. How they got on him was a mystery. But knowing the danger the team faced with Thawne and Inertia, anything had the possibilities of just happening with the Speed Force.  
  
Holding his breath despite the shock of the icy water, he had little time to gulp a breath before he plunged in, he brought his arms under his legs and brought them to the forefront, then he swam to the nearest encasement wall. Everywhere he looked, the glass was frosted and blocked any indication of where he was.  
  
He slammed his feet against the glass. _Reinforced_ , he thought. _Oh, that’s just great!  But it won’t be difficult to escape with my Escrima Sticks_. Of course, he wouldn’t use the voltage, that would be suicide. He’s electrocute himself. But he could use them to carve into the glass like a diamond. They had multiple functions other than producing voltage and knocking the crap out of bad guys. Each stick was like a Swiss-Army Knife, and had a variety of special tools that could replace the default shockers.   
  
He reached behind his back, but where they should’ve rested in shoulder scraps, he knew he had them when he left the Bat Plane, they were missing. Once again, with the sudden restraint of the clamps, and now his missing Escrima Sticks, this must’ve been done with lightning fast speed, and he knew Inertia must have been the culprit!  
  
Nightwing cursed, but he would never yield. There was always an escape from every trap, Batman always said.  
  
He slammed on the glass again with both his feet, putting all his strength behind the impact. But it was no good. Time was running out, he didn’t have a lot of breath to start with, and it was quickly leaving him.  
  
Then a thought struck him.   
  
Just the other day, Damian was doing his math homework and there was a velocity question — something to do with a train. And he quickly recalled his own days doing math in his cabin with a tutor in between shows at the carnival when he was with The Flying Grayson’s.  
  
 _Force equals mass times velocity._  
  
It was a basic mathematical principle. The water cell was only 10 feet by 10 feet in width. If he could get enough push from the other side, then maybe he could generate enough force to crack the glass by slamming his feet against it with even greater force to smash through.  
  
It was worth a shot. The alternative was death.  
  
He swam to the back of the cell and then launched himself through the water using his feet to catapult himself. The water’s buoyancy created friction and slowed him down slightly, but he still had enough thrust to do what he needed to do. He had calculated the distance before he began, then he twisted in the water, brought his feet out front, and slammed them hard against the glass. His reinforced boots created a hard enough crunch against the glass, and it cracked. But it didn’t yet break. He went back, and repeated his actions, and with equal or greater force — now that he saw it would work — slammed his boots hard into the glass once more.  
  
That was when it happened. The glass cracked like a spiders web and with his last ounce of strength, he hammered home with his boots, extenuating the weak spot. Water escaped, and then eventually the whole wall of glass broke from the pressure, and both he and the water rushed out in a tidal wave bursting out from a sudden hole.  
  
He was tossed to the floor and sucked in breath, gasped oxygen into his lungs, and then coughed. He saw blood mixed with the water around him and knew he had been cut by the glass when he was forced through. But he considered the wounds marginal compared to the death he almost succumbed to.  
  
Another close call, he thought. And thanked his lucky stars. No, he thanked Batman.  
  
He rolled on his back, his arms were still bound, but were in front of his body now, and that was when he found himself not in the interior of an office building, but in some sort of large room, ordained with tapestries woven with what looked like ancestral Speedsters in yellow and black costumes from unknown eras and without names as if the observer should already be aware of their “proud” long-standing lineage.  
  
Yet, he did know one — _Zoom (Reverse Flash)_ , the man who traveled back in time and murdered Barry Allen’s parents. He was a large, muscular Speedster who taunted Flash at every turn. He was a Speedster from the twenty-fifth century who had become obsessed with Flash for some reason. Although, Eobard Thawne did often try to steal Barry Allen’s powers to become the fastest man alive, he often failed in his attempts to kill the Flash.  
  
Around him, apart from the tapestries, the walls were adored with a sprinkling gold substance which presented a majestic, almost royalty appearance. When he sat up, he then saw stairs leading up to a golden throne, with a man he didn’t recognize, who had blonde hair, was a broad-shouldered, muscular, and wearing a dark, blue suit and tie.  
  
But the man standing two steps down to his right, he thought looked oddly found familiar. Was this Titan Fall?  
  
The man was barrel-chested and had jet-black hair. He wore a dark blue and black suit of armour similar to what was encased behind glass in the Bat Cave. But the Nightwing symbol was scratched off the chest plate and quite harshly. Across the man’s face was a jagged diagonal scar that he must have received somewhere in battle, it crossed his left eye without hindering his vision, across his nose, and down his right cheek — similar to a lightning bolt.  
  
He didn’t need introductions. This must his brother’s clone.  
  
Titan Fall clapped with a large smile. “Brilliant! Extraordinary! A fantastic demonstration of escapism! When I thought of the trick and asked for it to be set up as an introduction to our _fortress of solitude_ here, I just _knew_ you’d escape it. Batman taught you well… _Dick_.” He emphasized Grayson’s name.  
  
Nightwing shook his head, shaking the last bit of confusion and fogginess out of his mind. He was less shocked than he thought he’d be when he met with his brother. He got to his feet, arms bound. “You’re not the Mitch I know…”  
  
Titan Fall smirked. “Of course you wouldn't know me, not as I am today. You knew me—or rather, your brother—as a thinner, taunt, young man, an acrobat like yourself. He was nineteen years old when he died. While I’m fifteen years older, broader, muscular, and more chiselled. But your brother’s DNA is mine. I am your brother in that sense.”  
  
“He speaks the truth, Richard,” Thaddeus Thawne said, rising from his throne. “Frankly, I think the abbreviation of your name is an abomination. It shows a lack of class and unsophistication, and it is the name of an unruly male body part. I imagine you were teased heavily about it when you were a child?”  
  
“I was,” Dick admitted, uncaring that his real identity had been exposed. “But like all things in life, I came to accept it as it was — merely a name. A name is as important to those who accept its history and the respect it holds. So, being called _Dick_ — my brother always called me that, my parents called me Richard — is an honour. Those who teased me were truly the one’s hurt most inside. Like all bullies, anyone who mocks someone else is a coward.”  
  
“Admirable, Richard,” Thawne said. “You do hold an ounce of sophistication after all.”  
  
Dick looked at Mitch. “But let me tell you something. Sometimes when my brother and I would get into fights, and like my name used in a negative context, I also found a similar ways to use his name against him.” He looked Titan Fall up and down. “This is not my brother. All I see here is a _Bitch_.”  
  
This was not his brother, and now the shock of what Impulse had told him what Thawne had done fell to the wayside.  
  
Mitch sneered and took one step down. He was about to retort with a crude remark, it seemed, when Thawne put up a hand to halt and silence him. “I take back my previous comment,” he said. “You’re a barbarian from a time long forgotten where I am from and you should be treated as the pion you have become.”  
  
“Tell me this, Thawne. Why did you clone my brother? What did I ever do to you?” Dick demanded.  
  
“Isn’t it obvious?” Thawne spread his arms out wide. “I cloned Mitch Grayson and created Titan Fall because I knew — or thought — it would hurt you. You are one of Barry Allen’s — The Flash — friends and one of his closest confidants, and friends to all the speedsters from hereto and fro. But it looks like I underestimated your mental strength. You saw through my trickery immediately. No matter, you are stuck in this Slip Dimension with us. And your friends are stuck outside, unable to enter. Inertia is dealing with them as I speak.”

 

To Be Continued...


	6. Enemy of Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart Allen (Impulse) has come back in time with a warning for Dick Grayson. Thaddeus Thawne (President Thawne in the 30th Century, a long distant cousin of The Reverse Flash, arch enemy to Barry Allen 'The Flash') has cloned his dead brother Mitch Grayson with stolen DNA taken from the past with help of Impulse's genetically cloned evil twin Thad (Inertia). "Titan Fall" has been given immense powers. Both Thaddeus Thawne and Inertia have come back to the past to change future events, to alter the timeline, and only Impulse with help from the Bat Family can stop them. If they're not stopped, Time itself could cease to exist if "Titan Fall" is allowed to exist. (Sequel to my story Pride of a Superhero).

Tim Drake became cross-eyed the moment he tried to watch Impulse, Inertia, and Kid Flash, fight. Swirls of red and green circled around each other like rings of an atom. Even with the slow motion goggles he grabbed from inside the Bat Plane—a toy he designed to slowdown movement of any speedy object so details could be viewed with more clarity—the speedsters were moving much too fast for its censors to visualize within a form he could see.  
  
“Who do you think is winning?” Tim wondered.   
  
All three speedsters seemed evenly matched on the surface, but with two against one it should’ve been over very quickly. Yet one thing Tim knew never to do was to underestimate you enemy. He didn’t know that much about Inertia’s powers, but if they were anything like Impulse’s or Kid Flash’s, this was going to take time.  
  
Damian’s reached into a pouch and took out a Batarang. “Don’t know, don’t care…” he said off-handedly.  
  
Tim took off the goggles and observed Damian watching the match of the speedsters titans very closely, as if he could see something Tim couldn’t. How, he didn't know. The masks they were often had sight beyond normal sight and could see things the normal eye couldn’t, but there was no way Damian could see what was happening if Drake’s slow motion goggles couldn’t pick them up. But over time, Tim had seen Damian exhibit unusual skills that could only be endowed in him from constant training—and this he figured from Ra’s al Gaul—and there were people in the world with fantastic abilities who could see very fast moving objects. Was Damian one of these special people?  
  
“What do you think you’re going to do with that?” Tim asked.  
  
“Watch and see. Heads up!” he called out, and threw the Batarang into the throng.   
  
Then it happened, seconds later after the throw, Inertia was knocked out of the assemblage of speedsters, and he skidded along the ground, close the office building they were all gathered in front. Impulse and Kid Flash stopped.   
  
Inertia felt his head. “Ow! What the hell was that?”  
  
Damian took a couple of steps forward and stood in-between Kid Flash and Impulse. He then picked up the Batarang that had been used by one of the other speedsters against Inertia by way of a trump card. “Something simple and fast to stop the fight,” he said. “You can run all you want, but when a foreign agent is thrown into the mix, too bad. You’re out of luck! It’s called a Batarang for a reason and it was designed to react like a boomerang. When it’s thrown, it naturally comes back to its owner, given angle and speed. But when thrown another way with practise, tt can also disrupt velocity with a friction barrier, and stop an enemy it is speedster tracks.”  
  
“Quick thinking, Robin,” Kid Flash said. “Very smart.”  
  
“Naturally,” Damian replied.  
  
Inertia got to his feet. “Oh c’mon, you got lucky. How did you know it wouldn’t stop the other two?”  
  
Damian didn’t say anything at first, but then: “I’m just that damn good,” he said, smirked.  
  
“Arrogant little punk! I bet that won’t work twice,” Inertia said angrily.  
  
But before he could do anything, Impulse lunged at Thad with his arms out straight, and with the force of a battling-ram, made contract with Thad’s chest with the palms of his hands, and thrust him back, using his immense speed, sending Thad half way down the street, skidding and rolling uncontrollably across the hard pavement.  
  
Even before Thad had stopped, Impulse was on him, punching him — right cross, left hook, a kick to the abdomen, and then he stomped on his left hand. Thad cried out in pain. Impulse delivered enough force to shatter bones.  
  
Kid Flash raced over and held Impulse back, literally grabbing the kid and wrapping his arms around his body tightly. “I can’t understand what he’s done to you, kid. But enough, he’s had enough, Impulse,” he said.  
  
Inertia crawled on the pavement like some injured insect. “My hand — I think you broken my hand, you little…”  
  
“It’ll heal,” Impulse said, as if spitting venom at his worse enemy. “You can heal your injuries within a fraction of the normal time humans take to recover. Stop whining and take your medicine, you heartless SOB!”  
  
Inertia growled angrily. “This isn’t over, Impulse. The games still on. We still have Nightwing trapped in the building and there’s no way you’ll get to him. The three stratosphere barriers I’ve erected will prevent that from ever happening, only I know how to get in and out.” And with that, Inertia, zipped away, a green streak entering the building’s exterior force barrier, Inertia seemingly absorbed into its energy. It wobbled for a second, then stabilized.  
  
Kid Flash stopped Impulse from going after him, holding him tight. The kid struggled fiercely against him, but Wally was stronger. Once Inertia was gone and the barrier re-established, he let the pint-sized speedster go. But instead of thanking him, Impulse shoved Kid Flash with a speed shove, forcing Kid Flash to take a few steps back in recoil.    
  
“I had him, I had him! I could’ve beaten him for good! And you stopped me! Why?” Impulse demanded.  
  
“Because now we have another chance to go after them all, kid,” Kid Flash said. “Think! There’s strength in numbers.”  
  
Impulse was fuelled with anger, it was a child’s anger filled with impulsive thoughts to rid himself of his enemy. He was so close to defeating his rival. But Kid Flash was right, there was strength in numbers. And with the both of them, they could now vibrate through the barriers together and stop Thawne before he alters the time line forever.  
  
Wally looked at Bart with a smile. “Time for some teamwork. Ready, kid?”  
  
Impulse returned the smile, calmer now. “I’m always ready!”  
  
x x x  
  
President Thawne returned to his throne and clasped the rounded arm rests that were adorned with some sort of crested floral designs, Nightwing observed, even from all the way down on the lower floor. There were twelve tiers or elongated steps that reached from the floor to the throne platform. Nightwing waged it was to indicate what Thawne thought it was his status in life. That he thought he was at a level far beyond anyone else. He was President of the Earth in the thirtieth century. Okay, that was a big deal.  
  
Thawne considered himself something like royalty, hence the decor. That made him a classic megalomaniac. Nightwing had seen this kind of “villain" before, who surrounded himself with those who shared his vision and acted accordingly. And Nightwing bet if Thawne thought he could conquer the future, then assuredly it would be easy to do the same in the “primitive” past, as he saw it, referring previous to Dick Grayson as a barbarian.  
  
“Since we’re in the distance past, and we’re in an era with what you Ultimate Fighters, I think it only fitting that we have a gladiatorial challenge or our own,” Thawne said, addressing both Nightwing and Titan Fall. “You, Dick Grayson, versus my champion, your brother. And the winner gets gratis from the loser.”  
  
Mitch punched a fist into a hand excitedly. “That sounds like a great idea,” he said, then smiled at Nightwing, sporting white teeth. “What about you, Dickie? You up for a fight between men? Which one of us is stronger, eh?”  
  
Dick held up his arms. “Kind of hard to fight with these. And don’t call me Dickie. There’s only one person in this world that I allow to call me Dickie or Dickiebird, and if he was here, he’d wipe the floor with the both of you, guns ablazin’.”  
  
Thawne seemed to smile with an arrogance normally reserved for telepathic meta-humans. “Oh, you wouldn’t be referring to your adopted brother Jason Todd or as he affectionately likes to be called the vigilant The Red Hood? I know all about him. He’s quite an interesting character. He’s studied in the future. The only person that I know of that has died, but has miraculously risen from the dead without the burden of detrimental decay, albeit with help from the healing waters of the Lazarus Pit located in the snowy mountains of Switzerland. However in my time it’s dried up.”  
  
“How do you know all this?” Nightwing asked. “Those details are secret. No one should know about that.”  
  
Thawne smiled deviously. “Here’s a little known fact, and maybe this will motive you into fighting your brother — because you seem to need it. One of Jason Todd’s descendants in the future is experimented on daily bases in a research  lab to learn the secrets of eternal life, since the Lazarus Pit dried up long before its knowledge came to me. His descendants are quite a valuable commodity, possessing this god-like power within the Todd DNA.”  
  
“How dare you do that! Human beings in all forms deserve to exist no matter their genetic make-up!”  
  
“Correction: Human beings, not meta-humans that refuse to share their gifts. Creatures and the like demand to be studied to help the nations that associate with Earthgov for which I am its president.”  
  
“Then a snap election needs to be called and you ostracized. You’re a despicable human piece of scum.”  
  
“Many have tried, but all have failed. I have been Earthgov’s president for so long that no one is willing to challenge me. Suffice it to say, all my opponents have met with unfortunate accidents. My face is also associated with the government and its leadership, Earthgov has a strong mandate with me. I deliver swift justice to those that oppose order. And in exchange for people’s loyalty, our earthly nation remains at peace.”  
  
“From what I hear, you rule like a tyrannical dictator,” Nightwing said. “No wonder Impulse and the rest of the speedsters from your time era want to stop you.”  
  
“Rumours stated in lies to undermine Earthgov and the governance for which I oversee. Impulse is a thorn in my side, and he’s always getting in my way — that is why I created Inertia from my DNA spliced with Bart Allen’s. Together, the helix of DNA created the perfect hybrid of intelligence and speedster. Thad is my son, and he’s become Impulse’s worse enemy. Without Thad, in fact, none of this would be possible. Or even DNA from you long dead brother. He’s the one who went back in time to swipe a sample from your brother to bring back to the future to clone Titan Fall.”  
  
Titan Fall’s arms were crossed in annoyance, one finger tapped on his forearm. “Are we done talking yet?”  
  
“Forgive me, my friend. I have made you wait long enough. Let the match begin.” Thawne directed Mitch to remove Dick’s bindings. Mitch tossed them away after he did so. “Now, Dick Grayson, will you be a willing participate, or shall I give you further motivation to fight? Say, the death of one of your teammates outside these walls? With one instruction my me, Inertia can annihilate one of all of your non-meta-human friends—Tim Drake or Damian Wayne.”  
  
Dick was mentally at a crossroads. He had to fight, but also didn’t want to fight Mitch. He was much older from what Dick remembered his brother appeared before he died, but ultimately, Thawne didn’t give him an alternative. He knew his teammates, especially with Kid Flash out there, could handle Inertia. He’d have to focus on his own fight, here, and trust in his friends to handle there’s and defeat Inertia.  
  
“Fine, Thawne. You win. I’ll fight your monstrosity,” Dick said. “And an enemy of mine.”  
  
And he got ready for the fight of his life.

 

To Be Continued...


	7. Crushed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart Allen (Impulse) has come back in time with a warning for Dick Grayson. Thaddeus Thawne (President Thawne in the 30th Century, a long distant cousin of The Reverse Flash, arch enemy to Barry Allen 'The Flash') has cloned his dead brother Mitch Grayson with stolen DNA taken from the past with help of Impulse's genetically cloned evil twin Thad (Inertia). "Titan Fall" has been given immense powers. Both Thaddeus Thawne and Inertia have come back to the past to change future events, to alter the timeline, and only Impulse with help from the Bat Family can stop them. If they're not stopped, Time itself could cease to exist if "Titan Fall" is allowed to exist. (Sequel to my story Pride of a Superhero).

Titan Fall cracked his knuckles and readied himself for the fight. He then removed his upper armour and dropped it with a thud to the ground. It was felt it would weigh him down and without it he could move more freely. Nightwing decided to keep his costume intact after his binds were discarded.  He didn’t need to expose half himself to fight. This may have constituted as a gladiatorial fight according to Thawne—in ancient Roman most gladiators actually fought naked so their opponent didn’t have any clothing to grab a hold of—but because his costume was skin tight, he already felt free to fight as he was, footloose and fancy free.  
  
“We should do it right and pay homage to the gladiators of old,” Titan Fall said before the match began, indicting that Nightwing should also discard his upper costume. “I hate it when things are done cheaply.”  
  
“Like you,” Nightwing had quipped.  
  
Titan Fall sneered. “You’ll pay for that remark!”  
  
Titan Fall began with a classic starter move. His right elbow came up above his head and his arm readied to deliver a heavy swing. Easily avoidable, Nightwing ducked to the left. But with lightning speed, Titan Fall delivered a super fast roundhouse kick to Nightwing’s face that sent him to the floor. For a big man, he moved like someone half his size. Impulse did say Thawne had endowed him with immense strength and agility.  
  
Nightwing shook his head dazed, but he got to his feet quickly and faced Titan Fall again.  
  
Titan Fall followed his last attack with a series of quick punches to Nightwing’s chest and gut, and then one crushing uppercut to his chin,that sent Nightwing flying backwards and to the floor once more.  
  
Nightwing spit out blood.  
  
“C’mon, brother,” Mitch Grayson said. “You’re not fighting back. Give me a challenge!”  
  
Nightwing gritted his teeth, got to his feet, and charged Titan Fall. This was not his brother Mitch, so he didn’t have to hold back. He admitted, Titan Fall got a few lucky shots in because he hadn’t seen his style of fighting yet. Now that Nightwing knew Titan Fall was nothing but a brawler, he could plan his own attacks accordingly.  
  
And instead of punched and kicks, Nightwing did something unexpected and head butt Titan Fall. But the only loser in that strike was Nightwing. He staggered back and felt his head, moaning in pain. Titan Fall’s head felt like it was made of stone. In retaliation, Titan Fall delivered a head butt of his own and the force knocked Nightwing to the his hands and knees. The hero withheld a cry, but the pain was beyond anything he felt before.  
  
Titan Fall grumbled and then looked back at Thawne sitting in his golden throne.  
  
Thawne mused. “It appears Nightwing is having difficulty differentiating between survival and morality. Instinctively he feels the need to fight, but when he sees the face of his brother it creates an internal conflict,” he said retrospectively, standing. “The psychology of a superhero is complex. It would appear he needs further incentive.”  
  
“I have plenty of incentive,” Nightwing said through clenched teeth. “That monster isn’t my brother Mitch. My real brother—and my parents—are dead! They were murdered by a mobster who wanted to make a name for himself.”  
  
“Did you ever evoke justice upon him?” Thawne asked.  
  
Nightwing didn’t answer immediately.  
  
Dick Grayson had thought Tony Zucco was dead, or at least that’s what his street contacts had told him. But later he found out the man had just changed his name and moved to Chicago. He hunted him down, but, in the end, they teamed up to battle a deadlier foe that threatened the city, and they ended up parting ways on a forgiving note. Dick was thankful he hadn’t taken revenge on an innocent man in anger. He later found out Zucco had only taken credit for murdering his parents, because street-credit was everything in the mob. Instead, it was some low-life who took the shot. A bullet hit the trapeze rope that caused his parents and brother to plummet to their deaths. He learned through Jason’s contacts the real murderer later died in a drive-by shooting from another crime syndicate.  
  
“That’s my personal business,” Nightwing said firmly, getting to one knee. “But I’m sure you can find out everything by reviewing history when you get back to your time.”  
  
Thawne laughed. “True, very true. I can review history all I want, thanks to Inertia. You probably already know this, but Impulse—Bart Allen—has a right to hate me. I murdered his parents and sister when they wouldn’t cater to my whims. But he seems more orientated towards Inertia, Thad, my son, who is a clone of myself and Impulse’s DNA. Funny, the human condition — how someone can form a misconceived notion of misdirected anger towards another.”  
  
Nightwing’s head pounded, but he had suffered worse head butts. Even Alfred had a harder head.   
  
Thinking, he could understand Thawne’s reasoning. Bruce Wayne was at the circus when Dick’s parents were killed. Dick became Bruce’s ward after he took him in. Over the years, they had their quails, and eventually they parted ways when Batman got so angry at a villain that he almost broke his cardinal rule of “No Killing”. Dick fought with Bruce, and after Bruce slapped him and called him childish, he had had enough, and left.  
  
And moved to Bludhaven to start anew.  
  
Suddenly, Inertia burst through the innermost stratospheric barrier field surrounding the Slip Dimension and skidded to a halt on the floor. He surprised everyone. He held his hand that Impulse had broken by stomping on it. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Thad cursed. “Damn that little snot! Next time I fight Fart Allen, I’m going to kick his ass!”  
  
“Thad!” came Thawne’s voice. “What happened? And don’t call Impulse “Fart Allen”, that’s unbecoming of my son.”  
  
Thad momentarily looked at his father angrily, but then steadied his emotions. His father was a very scary man. Thad knew he was a genetically enhanced speedster with great powers, but he was also a creature who had a ticking time bomb in his body. President Thaddeus Thawne knew how to kill a speedster. He had murdered Bart’s parents easily. But Thad had never been privy to that secret, so it was a death threat that continuously hovered over his head.  
  
“Forgive me, father,” Thad said calmly. He tried to squeeze his hand together but cringed in pain. Quickly, he used his powers and sped up time for his DNA, vibrating his hand, using the Speed Force. After, he clenched a fist and smiled. It was fully healed. He then used the same technique to heal the rest of the injuries Impulse had given to him. “Impulse got lucky, but I’m afraid with Kid Flash, they’ll combine their powers and find a way inside, father.”  
  
“By vibrating through the barriers,” Thawne poised. Thad confirmed it, nodding. Thawne had limited use of the Speed Force—out of practise was more like it—so he depended on Thad to do most of his bidding against his enemies. “Then you need to stop them, Thad. Do what is necessary and keep those speedsters out of here.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Inertia said. “And I just thought of a brilliant plan to crush Impulse once and for all!”  
  
x x x  
  
“Okay, we’ve wasted enough time,” Damian sounded orderly. “Get us in there, now!”  
  
Impulsed looked at Damian and then at Kid Flash, said: “I can see the resemblance with Bruce Wayne,” he said. “And when in his costume, he sounds like Batman, too — so pushy, so staunch, like some sort of little general.”  
  
“That’s just the way he is,” Kid Flash said. “We’ve all become used to it since he entered the fray. And he can get a little annoying from time to time.”  
  
— _Tt_ — Damian hissed from between his teeth. “I heard that!”  
  
“Good!” Impulse said with slight annoyance. “I came from a world where a dictator rules. Don’t make me hurt you.”  
  
Damian gritted his teeth. Tim knew Damian had a short-fuse and immediately stepped in to defuse the situation, he slapped a hand on Damian’s shoulder with more than the usual pressure. Damian cringed. He looked at Tim. With a stare that mirrored Nightwing when he was serious even behind the mask, Damian knew this was not the time.  
  
Damian folded his arms across his chest and huffed, remained silent.  
  
Both speedsters turned back around to face the building. They had been prepared to combine their powers to vibrate through Inertia’s three stratospheric barriers before Damian’s childish interruption, now they affirmed their readiness. But it came at a great risk. The vibration technique was rarely used because if even one speedster miscalculated their vibration ratio and didn’t sync with the other perfectly the less powerful one could become absorbed within the other and disappear completely, their essence and consciousness vanishing like smoke.  
  
They had to get it right, to build their powers to balance with the other, before they could attempt to vibrate through the barriers. But as both were masters of their gifts, and each knew this of the other, they didn’t see a problem. Thinking as one, once through the stratospheric barriers, they’d enter the Slip Dimension and confront Thawne.  
  
The concept was like ripping a hole through space and time and then keeping it open with the Speed Force, so they could then get the others through. But it all had to happen within a fraction of a nano-second, or Tim and Damian’s  metaphysical energy would dissipate and be spread butter thin across the whole of the omni-verse.  
  
The speedsters locked hands, and then began their combination vibration technique. The technique had a name, but Kid Flash failed to recall it at the moment. He had used it only once with Barry Allen and they were successful. But that was with a speedster he knew. He knew little about Impulse’s abilities, despite knowing him on a personal level. Learning of a speedsters powers and experiencing them were two very different things.  
  
But Impulse was fast, and they quickly synced their ratios.  
  
Just then, a giant, green, photonic hand burst forth from the outermost stratospheric barrier that surrounded the office building and grabbed Impulse, breaking the combo-technique. It squeezed tightly, and Impulse screamed in pain as it began to crush his body. Clutched in its grip, a second attack came. With Kid Flash distracted by this mysterious hand, a powerful green blast hit Kid Flash in the chest and sent him heralding towards the Bat Plane.  
  
Kid Flash hit the side of the plane and bounced off, landing with a thud to the ground. Tim immediately went over to help him. But Kid Flash was tough, and he was already beginning to crawl to his feet.  
  
“Kid Flash! Are you okay?” Tim asked out of courtesy. “Anything injured?”  
  
“Only my pride,” he said, feeling his back. He used his powers to quickly heal himself. “That sneaky little bastard!”  
  
Inertia stood proud and laughed. “Whatcha going to do now?” With one hand cupped on his hip and the other acting as a surrogate appendage, gripping Impulse with the giant green hand, he had the upper hand. “Don’t anybody make a move, or I’ll crush him, breaking his bones into speed-dust!”  
  
Impulse cried out as the pressure increased. Inertia chuckled sinisterly.  
  
“But this time, I’m not going to waste my time here with you all. I think I’ll take my prize now.”  
  
And the last thing Impulse felt was the hand envelope him into the energy barrier, and Kid Flash screaming, “ _Nooo!_ ”

 

To Be Continued...


	8. Defeated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart Allen (Impulse) has come back in time with a warning for Dick Grayson. Thaddeus Thawne (President Thawne in the 30th Century, a long distant cousin of The Reverse Flash, arch enemy to Barry Allen 'The Flash') has cloned his dead brother Mitch Grayson with stolen DNA taken from the past with help of Impulse's genetically cloned evil twin Thad (Inertia). "Titan Fall" has been given immense powers. Both Thaddeus Thawne and Inertia have come back to the past to change future events, to alter the timeline, and only Impulse with help from the Bat Family can stop them. If they're not stopped, Time itself could cease to exist if "Titan Fall" is allowed to exist. (Sequel to my story Pride of a Superhero).

However Inertia was doing it—the photonic hand used an aspect not naturally occurring within the Speed Force—it must’ve taken a lot of self-generating energy to accomplish. But Thad stole enough naturalistic energy in combination with his own powers, energy that flowed from the earth itself—Impulse theorized it was possible. Converting photon energy into matter energy was a scientific theory, he had never seen Thad do this before, but, also in principle, it was an unstable reaction. And yet Inertia was just unstable in his one rite to do it.  
  
Impulse couldn’t wonder about the mathematical principles of this feat, his main concern was how it affected him. The hand gripped him tightly, converting his metaphysical energy into translucent energy as he passed through the three stratospheric barriers. He felt like he was bring ripped apart, atom by atom. Thad was talented, but when something was done “on impulse” and without thinking it through, it could have drastic consequences.  
  
He tried to scream, but like space, no sound left his lips.  
  
And then he felt relief, as the hand yanked him out of the dimension rift between the energy barriers and into solid space again. But the hand was still attached to the barrier wall, as if it was a part of it; only existing from it. The Slip Dimension was before him, cascaded in shiny gold walls, and fabric tapestries of ancestral Speedsters in yellow and black suits that were within Thawne’s family tree.   
  
Eobard Thawne— _Professor Zoom_ —also known to many Speedsters even in the thirtieth century as the Reverse Flash—was undeniably recognized. He was a brilliantly obsessed man with a doctorate who went back in time and murdered Barry Allen’s—The Flash’s—parents. His reason: He wanted to be the fastest man alive, and in killing Barry’s parents, the theory was, The Flash wouldn’t exist. But Eobard Thawne only created things for Barry to become the flash, struck by lighting in his lab.  
  
 _Has the man no shame?_ Impulse thought. _This display is pure arrogance personified._  
  
At the far end of this pocket dimension was Thawne, Impulse observed, sitting on a golden throne high above on a step tier set of platforms, watching two men embattled in some sort of gladiatorial match below—one of them was Nightwing. And the other was Titan Fall, Dick Grayson’s cloned brother.  
  
Inertia was also here, standing next to Thawne, his hand in a gripping motion, clenched fist, symbiotic of the photonic hand that gripped Impulse, that was now moving across the interior wall towards the elevated, step tier set of platforms. His cloned brother was grinning innately as if he had finally won the final battle.  
  
Thawne seemed to ignore Impulse for the moment as he watched the match that was happening down below. Impulse had no idea how it had started, but Titan Fall has discarded his upper armour — the same armour Impulse first saw in the Bat Cave when he arrived in this time era; they must’ve already stolen it, and the Bat Family had not yet noticed it gone. Nightwing was hurt, and hurt badly.   
  
Nightwing’s costume was torn, his shirt ripped from his body, his lower tights shredded and almost falling off his body, and his skin showed several bruising in several places. He still had his dignity, however. Although, everyone here already knew Nightwing was Dick Grayson, so wearing his mask was redundant.  
  
Nightwing wobbled as he stood on his feet, his arms up, fists clenched. He looked exhausted. How long had this fight been going on? Titan Fall delivered a vicious roundhouse kick, the man was quick for his build — and he showed little worse for ware. Nightwing recoiled from the impact, and twirled twice before hitting the floor hard, blood sputtering from is mouth.  
  
Blood mixed with water near Nightwing. Impulse noticed some sort of water torture chamber near the far wall. Did that have something to do with Nightwing’s original disappearance after they disembarked from the Bat Plane? Impulse knew Nightwing was trained by Batman and he was once a member of a circle troupe. It would figure Titan Fall (Mitch Grayson) would use something from a circus act to get Dick Grayson’s attention.  
  
The diabolic, deviousness of it struck Impulse as something Titan Fall would think of. In the future, he was the same and used the weaknesses—something that even his enemies weren’t fully aware of; Titan Fall seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of how to defeat his opponent with little effort—against every enemy he faced. It was ironic and symbolic of President Thaddeus Thawne’s self-appointed infallible genius. Go back in time, find the weakness of an enemy, and then exploit it in the present by using Titan Fall, thus generating a fear of superiority amongst the masses. No one in the future wanted to challenge Titan Fall because they thought they’d die, as everyone else had.  
  
Nightwing struggled.  
  
“Get up, weakling!” Titan Fall shouted. “You’re pathetic! I’ve fought much stronger opponents than you!”  
  
Nightwing’s teeth clenched with both agony and anger. He felt his stomach, blood streamed from his nose and mouth, teeth bloodied. A few choice defamatory words came out of his mouth. Nightwing called Titan Fall a Bitch. Titan Fall enraged, delivered a hard downward thrust punch, and Nightwing collapsed, seemingly unconscious to the floor. For moments, Titan Fall stood over him, and Nightwing he didn’t move, and remained still.   
  
“Stop it! You’ll kill him!” Impulse shouted.  
  
That seemed to grab Thawne’s attention. And with the gladiatorial match seemingly over, he turned his matters elsewhere. Inertia squeezed harder and Impulse cried out. Thawne with a hand gesture, told Inertia to ease up.  
  
“The match is over,” he said. “Dick Grayson was no match for my genetically engineered super soldier. With Titan Fall as the template, I’ll grow hundreds, even thousands of the alike to become my own person army, and rule the entire world in the thirtieth century. It begins now.”  
  
“NO!” came a voice from the floor. Nightwing was awake.  
  
“Ah, so the great warrior has come back to us,” Thawne said. “I thought you were knocked out cold?”  
  
Nightwing with gritted teeth, raised himself up off the floor with his arms, and got to his knees, then he looked up, and stared angrily at Thawne. “I’ve been hit harder, Batman has hit me harder!” Nightwing then forced himself to stand. He suddenly seemed to be filled with a hidden energy, one that came deep inside generated by an overwhelming need for survival but fuelled by anger. “Titan Fall’s punches are nothing to others’s I know. If Superman were here, Titan Fall would be spattered across the payment.”  
  
“Ah, but he is not here — you are! And I can see now that you are no match for your brother. And my superior mind in the field of genetics has guaranteed that. But it’s always nice to be proven correct. We so-called megalomaniacs love affirmation. Inertia is the perfect example of my genus. But he is unique. And cannot be duplicated. Mitch Grayson’s DNA is on file in my private lab. When I return back to my time, I’ll begin mass production of my army. And Earthgov will not only rule the planet, but it will spread far and wide through the universe!”  
  
Impulse spoke up. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Thawne. Just before I followed you here, I placed a bomb in your private labs. If the thermo-detonator did its job, it should’ve obliterated your either genetic samples.  And the rest of the Speedsters will prevent any hope of you getting Mitch Grayson’s DNA again. Titan Fall is alone.”  
  
Throne growled. “You insufferable little brat! You’re always interfering with my plans in the future!”  
  
“We Allen’s aim to please when it comes to stopping you Thawne’s,” Impulse said smirking. He looked at Thad. “And I think its time to end this farce. Did you really think you could hold me indefinitely?”  
  
Patience was not something that suited Impulse well. His namesake given to him by Batman was testament to that. He was impulsive. But he had learned to bide his time with practise and think things out with clarity before acting. It was a  new skill came in handy this time—faking pain and anguish when Thad squeezed the photonic hand.   
  
Impulse felt the pressure when Thad tightened his grip, though it was not as intense as he let his brother to believe. He reacted like an actor playing a pivotal role to convince others that it was genuine as if it did cause him immense pain. Instead, he used his Speedster powers to generate a small, yet undetectable variation within his cells—always in motion; every cell in constant flux—using a minute vibration to give him just enough space like a personal barrier within the photonic hand similar to an air pocket. And when the air was released, he’d be free.  
  
Now it was time to reveal his own genius.  
  
Bart Allen pushed his vibration to its limits with the Speed Force. One moment he seemed to disappear like a ghost, but then his translucent form dropped from the photonic green hand, and he landed with a solid thud to the floor. Once down, he immediately began running—a red streak following him like a jet stream.  
  
“No!” Thawne shouted. “Get him, you fool!” he ordered Inertia. “I am so close! I can use Titan Fall as a template and re-create the condition of the original cloning experiment, but Impulse will ruin everything. Kill him!”  
  
Inertia screamed bloody-murder. “Impulse will not escape me this time! I’m going to kill him!”  
  
Using his own hand as a surrogate again, he raised it up high and tried the swat Impulse like a fly, slamming the photonic hand to the floor. But Impulse was up to full speed and avoided the attack. Several more similar attacks followed, and Impulse avoided each one with ease, zig-zagging like lightning, avoiding the hand seconds before it struck down on the place he had once been.  
  
Thad was slow, and impulsive, and foolish, Impulse thought.   
  
_Slam!_   
  
The hand came down hard on the floor and Impulse had to pivot his rear forward just to avoid it that time. He felt the wind current from the impact and it temporarily blew him off course. But he recovered quickly.  
  
“Kill him, you idiot!” he heard Thawne order. “Or I’ll punish you severely!”  
  
Thad, now more angry than ever, clenched his fist. “He won’t avoid this one. I’ll make you proud, father!”   
  
And the photonic hand seemed to grow in size. It must’ve taken a lot of energy to do this, Impulse thought. Now was the time to end this. And he had the perfect plan to do so. Impulse skidded, and then did an about-face to face Thad, and then raced straight towards him. Thad looked shocked, his eyes wide. But then Impulse climbed the wall, ran around him and Thad’s head and body followed him—up, down, around, and around, as if trying to make them dizzy.   
  
But Impulse had something else in mind.  
  
Impulse then made a bee-line towards Nightwing.   
  
Thad raised the photonic hand—and as Impulse snatched Nightwing in his arms, both his speed and his own powers made him super strong to carry a full grown man—he raced out of the way of what came next. The hand responded to Thad’s thoughts, but once it was in motion it near-next to impossible to stop, and Impulse knew this. That was the major weakness to Thad’s photonic hand, he had figured this out very soon after Thad had enlarged it. The bigger it became, the more difficult it was to control.  Like all things. And the hand was enormous now.   
  
Impulse’s position also gave him the opportunity to nudge Titan Fall every so slightly.  
  
Fuelled by anger, and without thinking—all Thad wanted was to kill Impulse—the photonic hand came down hard, and slammed down directly onto a spot Impulse had been a mere nano-second before, but now Titan Fall was, nudged into position—Impulse had calculated the trajectory of the falling hand prior—and the cloned super-soldier was instantly squashed like a bug, his body flattened, blood spattering everywhere in a star-burst fashion.  
  
Thad gasped, and screamed! “ _NOOOOOOOO!_ ”  
  
In response, Thawne hit Thad with a back-handed strike and the Speedster flew back, hitting the back wall. He then rolled down the tiered steps in an uncontrolled tumble; the photonic hand instantly losing its solidification and the energy dissipated. But the result was ever-apparent. Titan Fall—Mitch Grayson’s clone—was nothing more now than a blood-stain on the pavement. All that power, strength, and immense agility was no match for a child’s tantrum.  
  
Thad’s impulse behaviour had killed one of Thawne’s greatest creations and any chance of building a massive army.  
  
Impulse put Nightwing down, and left his side for a moment. He sped to the death-spot of Titan Fall. “ _Ewwwwwww_ …that’s nasty!” Then he gave a thumbs up to Thawne. “Thanks, always appreciate it when bad guys do the hard work.”  
  
But Thawne wasn’t done yet.   
  
He reached behind his back and pulled out a pistol that had apparently been there all along and then took aim at Impulse. He fired in rapid succession a barrage of energy shots. It was easy enough for Impulse to avoid each shot. He zigged and zagged, like the jagged picturesque appearance of a lightning bolt.  
  
The speedster than ran and circled Inertia. Thad felt the cyclonic gusts as Impulse encapsulated him inside a vortex of Speed Force winds. Taking aim, Thawne fired his pistol. Thad recoiled as he was struck in the back shoulders by an energy blast from Thawne’s pistol and collapsed in a heap.   
  
Impulse raced away quickly, back to Nightwing; he wanted to give his friend some protection. He skidded to a stop.  
  
“Time to give up now, Thawne!” Impulse said, looking back a Thawne. “You’ve been defeated. Thad killed your super-solder and now he’s out for the count. You’re a Thawne, but your powers are next to nil. That’s why you get everyone else to do your dirty work for you! You may be President in the future, but you’re nothing here. Give it up!”  
  
“That’s where you’re wrong, you little brat!” Thawne proclaimed. “Neither of you are going to leave this place alive! And your friends out there will feel the full brunt of my wraith when—”  
  
Impulse pointed at Thad. “Have you forgotten? Thad’s out like a light, you moron. Your threats are meaningless now, and without him, you’re trapped in this time era.”   
  
Impulse raced up to Thawne, and very easily bent the barrel of Thawne’s energy pistol into a curve with his super strength, thus rendering it useless. He then pushed Thawne down the tiered steps and watched him tumble much like he did to Thad. He came to land next to Inertia. “Villains deserve to share in each other’s fates,” Impulse said.   
  
Nightwing had gotten to his feet and was now approaching the villainous duo. He had taken a fleeting glance at what was once Titan Fall, but that was the attention he gave the clone.  
  
“Will this Slip Dimension keep existing with Inertia out cold?” Nightwing asked.  
  
“I’m helping it along,” Impulse said. “I’m mentally generating a temporary static time bubble using a similar technique Inertia did to create the photonic hand with Speed Force and natural energy, but I can only hold it together for a short time, and it will collapse on itself when we leave. We should go soon. I suppose we should take them, too?”  
  
Suddenly, Kid Flash, with Damian and Tim, flashed into existence. With the stratospheric barriers gone, they were able to enter the Slip Dimension unabated.  
  
“Dick! Are you okay?” Tim asked concerned. The teen looked him up and down, Nightwing’s costume was ripped to shreds and was severely blood-stained. Nightwing held his stomach.  
  
“I’ve had worse,” Nightwing said.  
  
“I’m glad you’re okay, Grayson,” Damian chimed in. “I was…we were…worried.”  
  
Dick smiled. “I’ll be right as rain after some rest and patch-up work, Damian,” he said, flattered the kid cared.  
  
Thawne slammed his fists to the floor in a fit of fury. “No! It can’t end like this!” Teeth clenched, he said: “I won’t let it!”  
  
Suddenly, Thaddeus Thawne was engulfed in a vortex streak of green light, and a spacial fissure opened up near a wall, created by the Speed Force. With their advanced special powers, Thad and Impulse no longer needed time capsules to travel back through time, a special technique with the Speed Force helped them do so.   
  
It appeared Thad had not been so unconscious after all.  
  
And the pair of Inertia and Thawne entered the spacial fissure with lightning speed, and disappeared. The fissure quickly shut after them.  
  
Impulse wanted to follow. To create his own spacial fissure, he would immediately need to open up a corridor within seconds to piggybank on their slipstream. But Kid Flash held him back. He immediately felt a rush of angry towards Kid Flash, but he calmed himself. Besides, he knew where they’d be. They had obviously gone back to the future—his connection with the Speed Force told him so. So, there was no rush to hunt them down.  
  
They had defeated Thawne and Inertia. It was time to lick their wounds and discuss what came next.

 

To Be Continued...


	9. The Real Boy Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart Allen (Impulse) has come back in time with a warning for Dick Grayson. Thaddeus Thawne (President Thawne in the 30th Century, a long distant cousin of The Reverse Flash, arch enemy to Barry Allen 'The Flash') has cloned his dead brother Mitch Grayson with stolen DNA taken from the past with help of Impulse's genetically cloned evil twin Thad (Inertia). "Titan Fall" has been given immense powers. Both Thaddeus Thawne and Inertia have come back to the past to change future events, to alter the timeline, and only Impulse with help from the Bat Family can stop them. If they're not stopped, Time itself could cease to exist if "Titan Fall" is allowed to exist. (Sequel to my story Pride of a Superhero).

It was a few hours later, and everybody was still gathered in the Bat Cave for the celebration in defeating Thawne’s devious plan. Alfred served party favours and drinks and told Dick he’d inform Master Bruce of events later.  
  
Dick had gone away for a while to be by himself after the experience with his cloned brother, and the others had accepted that. He told everyone that he was okay before he left, and that Titan Fall hadn’t affected his memories of his brother Mitch from the past in any way. But PTSD had a funny way of cropping up at the weirdest times.  
  
He had told Alfred everything that had happened and “Mother Hen” thought it would be a good idea to make a call to Barbara Gordon and to talk with her about events, because sometimes the best therapy was to talk with someone else besides immediate family. Dick often called her when he was at a crossroads in his life or had a major problem he needed help with. He took Alfred’s advise and made the call in the Library where he wouldn’t be disturbed.  
  
Dick was an open person, and even though he said the events had not tarnished the memories of his brother in any  way, shape of form, the experience of the events, however—fighting his brother, and the perverse act that his DNA had been stolen in revenge just because he was friends with the Flash—was a bit overwhelming. And the flashbacks of that terrible day when his family had been killed came back with a vengeance. At one moment, he even found himself crying on the phone, and Barbara wished she could be there in person to confront him.  
  
When the call ended, he felt a lot better. And before joining the others, he cleaned himself up.  
  
Dick exited the elevator that lead to the Bat Cave, and the first person he looked at was Alfred; he gave the butler a thank-you nod and a smile for the fatherly advise. In Dick’s hand he carried what looked to be an old, but nondescript bound book.  
  
He had just joined everyone as Impulse was telling Wally and the others what Thawne had been up to in the future, and how the Speedsters were keeping him in check. This incident in the past had been rare. Normally Thawne would never interfere in the past, because like the Butterfly Effect, one small change would dramatically alter the future. Anyone who dealt with time travel knew this and stayed away from the concept, other than to discreetly observe.  
  
Dick smiled when he saw everyone together and unmasked. They were all his friends and family, people he could rely on in a pinch, and people he could talk to if he had a problem. And now he wanted to share something special with all of them as a thank-you.  
  
“Hey everyone,” —He looked at Impulse in particular— “I’m glad you’re still here, Bart.” He glanced around to the others. “I found this in an old truck my father had in when we in the circus, in an old tickle trunk, if you will, because he kept everything in it that tickled his fancy.” Dick laughed.  
  
In his hand was an old photo album.  
  
“I haven’t looked at this in years, but after today, I think it was time to bring it out again,” he said with a smile. Dick placed the album on a table, and they all gathered around him. He sat down, so they could look over his shoulder as he opened the book, and turned the pages. There were old pictures of him when he was with The Flying Grayson’s, including pamphlets of advertisements of special and upcoming performances.  
  
There were pictures of every sort, still and action, of every member of The Flying Grayson’s in their costumes. There were also pictures of groupies, stage-hands, clowns and carnies, and other people that had been a part of the circus production and experience back then. Most of the “family” pictures were captured during live-performances. And there was even a wide-angled, panoramic shot of all four Grayson’s in mid-performance while on the tight-rope.  
  
And while it reminded him of something else now, Dick Grayson especially liked a picture of him dressed as a clown and in make-up, painted with a big Joker-like smile that one of the make-up artists had done. He couldn’t remember why he was dressed as a clown, but the picture made him smile nonetheless.  
  
Observing behind him as he flipped through the pages, the others made commits on the photos, and Wally even remarked how cute he looked when he was a kid. Wally had a tendency of making open comments like because that was just the way he was, open and honest. Besides, the truth was the truth. He was a cute kid.  
  
The comment triggered a memory, and Dick remembered how he was approached by a girl his same age at the circus after a performance she attended, and she even propositioned him for a date because she thought he was cute. She ended getting a photograph with him and getting a personalized 8x10 glossy with his autograph instead. Afterwards, his brother Mitch teased him about it saying he needed to get use to that. Girls will flock his way one day.  
  
And throughout the years, those words were so true. But more so now as Nightwing in his skin-tight costume. He had seen the results of a poll contest on line on the site G-TMZ that listed all the superheroes with the “Best Butt”. And Nightwing came in #1 by a large margin. But he was surprised Red Hood came in as #2 and Red Robin #9.  
  
He still didn’t understand why everyone was so interested in his butt. It was a butt. Something to sit on.   
  
But the funny thing was, two days later after the poll closed, Barbara came over to the Manor and presented him with a trophy for “Best Butt”. It was on a mini-platform with a 7 inch tall statue of Nightwing. It was remarkable. She said she did it herself and it took several hours with a 3D printer after all the parameters were programmed into her computer with proper colour stats, captured from a collection of photos she had taken from a “photo shoot” the two had playfully done a few months back in private—something fun for private use. The statue had him looking coy and playful in a pre-dominate sexy pose with a finger to his lips, as if saying, “Shh, don’t tell anyone my identity.” And with the tightest butt he had ever seen. He was in awe at the detail. Was that how everyone saw him? Or Nightwing?  
  
That night, he then showed her his butt and the rest of him—friends with benefits had its perks. She was always his favourite, he had said to her as they lay in bed. Despite all the other women in his life, no-one compared to the times he had with Barbara, as Robin or in private. And she was and would always be his #1.  
  
He turned a page in the album and found a picture of Mitch smiling about something, probably for the photograph. It was the prefect representation of the “Grayson grin”, as others commented on whenever Dick smiled his happiest; large and big. Mitch was always happy, he loved performing, and he loved his family.  
  
Dick put his hand on the photograph and counted the years in his head since Mitch had died and determined how old he would be now. It was sad to think that Dick had outlived his older brother. If his family were still alive today, he bet they and he would still be performing for circus-going audiences today. Circuses were not as big as they were back when he was a kid, but people still liked to enjoy the simpler things in life.   
  
In today’s world, there was a label for everything and he wondered what fans of the circus would be called? Maybe just “circus fans”. Plain and simple.  
  
He wiped a tear from his eye, said: “This is Mitch, my true brother. No one even comes close. I looked up to him. He was not only brother by blood, but my idol, my friend, and my confidante.”  
  
Wally put a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Now you’ve got us, bro,” he said with a smile. “We’re your band of brothers in crime fighting and in ever-lasting friendship.”  
  
He “bumped” fists with Wally. “Thanks, that means a lot.” Dick then looked around at each one of them in turn, even at Bart, because without him at this juncture, Dick would probably be dead at the hands of Thawne’s clone. But the kid looked distracted, and engrossed in something, leaning over the table on his right, his hand on his chin in deep thought. Something in another photograph on the opposite page of Mitch’s had his attention.  
  
Dick looked down at the photograph, asked: “What’s the matter, kid?”  
  
Bart pointed at a seemingly innocuous photograph someone had taken of a departing crowd but with the family still within the shot. It wasn’t the greatest picture, but Dick’s father obviously thought it was worth preserving. The kid leaned in further, squinting his eyes, then shook his head, and smirked unsurprisingly. “That little SOB,” Bart said. “Do you have a magnifying glass or anything that can enhance this picture?”  
  
Dick acted befuddled, but then took the picture out of the album and gave it to Tim. Tim took it, placed it in the scanner, and after a few seconds of warming-up, it scanned a blow-up version of the photo on the large Batcomputer screen. Dick asked what Bart was referring to as he pointed, and Bart asked Tim to enhance one corner of the photograph and to try to clarify it as best he could even though it was an old photo.  
  
Wally now saw it. “Is that who I think it is? Well, that son of a bitch!”  Someone had captured Inertia on film from way-back-when, but as a shadowed streak. His face and appearance could be seen with enhancement. “This proves that Inertia did go back in time to steal a sample of your brother’s DNA, Dick.”  
  
Dick nodded.  
  
They had also confirmed after they had returned to the Bat Cave that the Nightwing armour that Titan Fall had been wearing was missing from the collection. Smashed glass was found on the floor in the changing chambers.   
  
Impulse figured Inertia must’ve opened a vortex inside the Bat Cave soon after they left to face Titan Fall; Thawne telling him to steal it. Then he went back to the future—and history as Impulse remembered it with Titan Fall wearing the armour played out—up to the point where the clone was killed by Inertia’s photonic hand in the Slip Dimension.  
  
Wally then said, “Yeah, but whose to say, those jerks won’t try the same thing again?”  
  
“My friends in the future will make sure of that,” Bart said. “We Speedsters have a way of using the Speed Force to undo things and then replace them with other things, like erasing short-term memory, that sort of stuff.”  
  
“Really?” Wally’s brow rose. “You’d have to show me that some time,” he said intrigued. “That would really come in handy.” Dick nodded in agreement when Wally looked at him. “If I knew that trick—if someone was hurt badly, or died in battle, say with Thanos or Darkseid—I could go back in time and change things. Time travel is difficult for me. I tried it once and I got lost for a time in the Speed Force. The whole episode was crazy!”  
  
“How’d you find your way back?” Impulse asked.  
  
“Barry Allen helped me. He’s the strongest person I know in connection with the Speed Force.”  
  
Bart smiled. “Um, I would disagree with that,” he said. “But you’ll find out eventually.”  
  
“And what do you mean by that? Are you saying I can get stronger in the Speed Force?”  
  
Bart opened his mouth but stopped short from revealing a valuable piece of information. History foretold Wally would get very strong in the Speed Force, but it would be a rocky road for him. And he would be more powerful than Barry Allen. Instead, Bart merely smiled innocently. He fit his head piece back on. “I think I should head back home now. The other Speedsters are probably wondering why I haven’t returned yet with Thawne and Inertia already back.”  
  
He had a piece of equipment around his wrist, and explained it was a chrono-watch that acted like a link to the future. With it, he received messages from his friends from the future, and they informed him when it was the best time to avoid the “storms” — chaotic energy fluctuations within the Speed Force that could throw a Speedster off course. This, Impulse, wagered, was probably what caused him to arrive earlier to the Bat Cave than he had originally calculated.  
  
And a message had come through from his friends. Now was the perfect time to make his way back. They had intercepted Thawne and Inertia when they returned back to the future. Unfortunately, with Thawne, he had enough power as President of Earthgov to make certain problems go away. And since the incident with Titan Fall was over—and Impulse’s bomb had destroyed all evidence of his cloning process; that had been really stupid to do now that he thought about it—Thawne could deny everything, and things would revert back to normal, so to speak.  
  
“Thanks again,” Impulse said, saying nothing more, and with lightning speed, he used the Speed Force to open up a time fissure, and then entered. The fissure closed behind him. And Impulse was gone.  
  
“Well, I better get going, too,” Wally said, donning his full costume. “I had a date with his girl Carol a few days back and screwed it up royally. I just thought of a way to make it up to her. I’ll show myself out. All the best memories, buddy. Stay strong like always,” he said to Dick, and gave him a thumbs up. And he left, sped away, through the cave complex of tunnels. He knew the exit, and now that the Batcomputer had an up-to-date likeness of him—in his red costume—Tim Drake’s new security system would no longer peg him, or Impulse even, as intruders.  
  
Dick Grayson turned back to the album and continued to look through it. He was reminiscing about the past and he didn’t want to leave those good memories just yet.  
  
Damian joined him, and put a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Hey Grayson, you never speak about your brother much and this is the first time I’ve seen a picture of him” —Tim said likewise— “you look so much alike.” Tim seemed to read Damian’s mind for a second, after he brought back the picture of Mitch Grayson from the scanner, and came to stand at Dick’s other side. “So please, tell us about Uncle Mitch.”  
  
Dick looked at them both with wide eyes. “Uncle Mitch?” he muttered, and then smiled. “I think he’d like you guys.”  
  
“I think we’d like him, too. I think Grayson’s would be likeable in any time period,” Damian said with a smile.  
  
Dick reached to his shoulder and patted Damian’s hand. Tim then rested a hand on Dick’s other shoulder. It was as if both of them were issuing feelings of comfort and Dick appreciated the sentiments—brothers-in-arms, indeed.  
  
He placed the picture of Mitch back into the photo album. It was very valuable.   
  
“So many good memories,” Dick began, “and a lot of them unforgettable. It’s hard to know where to start…”  
  
But he started with the first favourable story that came to mind.   
  
And for the next hour he enthralled his brothers, if not by blood but by bond, with stories from his past. Of his family, of The Flying Grayson’s circus troupe, and of Mitch “the real boy wonder” Grayson.  
  
 **END.**


End file.
